


once more, with feeling

by greywardenblue



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Fictober 2019, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywardenblue/pseuds/greywardenblue
Summary: Toby is in trouble again, and this time, she's going to need all her friends to solve it. It would help if more of those friends remembered her...
Relationships: Toby & friends
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: October Daye Time Travel Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No, there's no singing.
> 
> Prompts in this work:  
> "That's what/who I'm talking about."  
> "Patience is not something I'm known for."

“October!”

I woke with a jolt, and a human man was scowling at me angrily. It took me a moment to place him.

“Am I boring you?” Pete, the night manager asked.

“No,” I said, and straightened my back. I was wearing a uniform. This was bad.

He sighed, and likely regretted hiring me all over again. I had given him a lot of reasons to do that in the last few months, I think.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he said, and walked off, leaving me alone at the cash register.

My name is October Daye. I am a Knight of Shadowed Hills, Hero of the Realm named by Queen Windermere in the Mists, mother of a Roane girl, substitute mother of a bunch of other teenagers, sister of two, niece to many, daughter of a Firstborn and engaged to the love of my life. I have fought and killed Firstborns, saved children, attended conclaves, overthrew monarchs, had doughnuts with the eldest daughter of Maeve the whole of Faerie fears, and found that I was never as alone as I told myself I was. I have also been jumping around in time against my will for the past several weeks. I haven’t figured out why it happens, but I am almost certain my bitchy aunt is to blame.

So really, that above introduction isn’t very correct at all. Let me try again.

My name is October Daye. I am a changeling knight in hiding from her liege and everyone who still loves her, a mother who didn’t get to raise her child, a woman who has no sisters or fiancé or adopted children, not even an aunt. I work at a Safeway grocery store on Mission Street. And if I don’t find out how to stop this soon, the next time I wake up might be in the pond where I spent fourteen years thanks to my stepfather, Simon Torquill, who thought he was protecting me.

Not that I’m supposed to know any of that stuff. Thanks, Mom and Sylvester!

I briefly considered quitting right here and now, but I decided against it. I already felt guilty about disappearing without a word last time; the least I could do is finish my damn shift.

And then I saw her. Before I could stop it, a genuine smile came to my face - something that was out of character for me at this time, and definitely out of character for any retail worker before six in the morning, nearing the end of their shift.

“Good morning, and welcome to Safeway,” I said cheerily, barely able to contain the burst of affection and sheer relief in my chest. “Will that be paper or plastic today?”

She looked surprised, maybe even shocked at my reaction, but she didn’t comment on it. “Plastic’s fine, honey,” she said, running a hand through her oily back hair. “Is that really the name your parents gave you?”

Strangely, my smile widened at that. “It’s a family thing,” I said. “My mother chose it.” _And you know this, because you’re her sister. I see you’ve learned all the loopholes to imply untruths without lying. I wish you had never had to do that, but now it amuses me because it’s familiar_.

I looked down at her six pints of gourmet ice cream and twelve pack of Diet Coke. “Having company tonight?” I asked.

“What? No, this is just for myself.”

“Oh. I see.” I bagged her groceries with routine. I suppose this is a little like riding the bicycle. “I’m sure you’ll have company to share with soon.” Me. I will be that company, when I inevitably show up at her place and ask for her help to get back home before I am lost forever.

Tybalt once said I cannot bring everyone else home and leave myself lost. I thought he was full of shit then, but I was planning to listen to him now. I refused to stay lost.

“If you say so.” She looked a little uncomfortable, and I hid another grin despite the situation. Doesn’t feel so good when other people say cryptic things, huh? “You have a good night, honey.”

“You too, ma’am,” I said. I didn’t bother calling out that she forgot her receipt; I folded it and slipped it in my pocket. I’d see her again soon enough.

I enjoyed some peace and quiet and tried to decide what I would do next. Since I didn’t know how long I was going to stay here before the next jump, I wasn’t sure it was worth trying to change anything - but the fact that this time I jumped back before Evening Winterrose allegedly died was too tempting to be ignored. I found her assaulter last time, but not nearly all the answers. This time, I would look with different eyes.

“Is this lane open?”

In another life, I told myself I was alone in the world, and viciously pushed away anyone who tried to prove me wrong. In another life, I went as far as to ignore the people who loved me and tried to call me home. In another life, I was more hurt than ever, so I lashed out and hurt everyone else, too, instead of letting them tend to my wounds. I had my reasons, yes, but that didn’t make it right.

“Sure it is,” I said, my smile fainter than earlier, but no less sincere. “Hey, Mitch.”

He looked surprised at my acknowledgment, then returned the smile, relief clear on his face. “You’re in a better mood today?”

I shrugged sheepishly. “A little.”

Mitch grinned. “In that case, I hope you’ll come home with me tonight. I can wait until your shift ends. Stacy can make pancakes–”

“Another time,” I said, before my heart would force me to agree. His smile disappeared. “Sorry, Mitch. I’m a little booked for the next few days. But we’ll talk soon, okay?”

He nodded, a little wary. “Of course. The kids would love to get to know you. Other than Cass, I mean.”

Root and branch, I wanted to get to know them, too. I already knew them, and loved every single one. “Of course,” I echoed.

Only fifteen minutes of my shift left, then I would hand in my resignation, effective immediately. I had a different calling.

–

“And may I wish a very good morning to you too, October. What happened? Did the prettiest little princess miss her carriage home?”

That voice has always sent my heart fluttering, though for very different reasons. Last time, it was mild fear. This time, it was love.

If you think that’s cheesy, you have no idea how much Tybalt improved my life once I let him. But that would be a long time from now.

“People don’t exactly use carriages anymore, you know,” I said, fighting my smile. I already freaked the Luidaeg out by being too happy to see her today. Then again, freaking Tybalt out would be appropriate payback for how he used to act around me around this time.

This time, I did something I would never have dreamed of doing last time I was here: I let myself look. Not too long, and not enough to be creepy. But I had no idea when I would see the real Tybalt, _my_ Tybalt again, so I couldn’t help at least get some comfort from his ghosts.

“No response to the princess part?” he asked as he leant against the wall. “Then again, perhaps I am wrong to make fun. Your mother is quite noble, after all.”

In another life, I would have thought his comment was an insult to my mother for lying with a human man, another expression of his contempt for changelings. But now I knew better. Now I knew why he was wary around changelings, the Divided Courts, and my mother particular. I not only knew the contempt was for my mother specifically - I shared it.

“I don’t think you know my mother very well,” I said. Neither did I. Not then, and not now.

"I assure you, I know her as well I ever want to." His gaze traveled down my body, and I shivered. Had it always been like this? “I adore the costume, by the way. What are you these days, a maidservant? A chairwoman in one of these glass towers? The trousers fail to flatter, but the blouse is sufficiently gauzy.”

Wait. I hadn’t remembered this.

I widened my eyes in fake surprise. “Are you flirting with me?” I asked.

He laughed in my face. Of course. In another life, that would have hurt me, but again… I knew better. “Don’t flatter yourself, October. I have standards.”

I smiled innocently, and I made no move to pull my jacket closed like last time. “Then why are you studying my gauzy blouse like that?”

That threw him off his rhythm, I could see it now. He turned his head, and I couldn’t be certain in the dark, but I think he may have blushed.

How the tables turn.

I would have to be careful and hold back; if I carry on like this, he might decide I was a doppelganger, despite the fact that my scent clearly told him I was nobody but me. But I was enjoying the shift in the dynamic too much. If I had to do things again, I might as well give as good as I get.

He let out a sound halfway between a cough and a scoff, then changed the topic. “What brings you out at such an unpleasant hour? Did you feel the need for a little company and come to watch the sunrise from the privacy of my alley, hoping I’d show up?”

And he was back to his old self.

Back then, I never would have considered his comments might have been of the flirting variety, despite their content. Their teasing tone and my conviction that he hated me was enough to get that idea out of my head. But with everything I knew, every little teasing comment made me want to step forward and kiss him with everything I had. (I would not. I still had some self-preservation; even if he didn’t hurt me physically, he would not let me live that down, and might not even appreciate it at this point.)

“I wanted to check on my little fish,” he continued, and I frowned a little at the nickname. I had gotten used to it by now, and yet. “To see where she was _swimming_.”

“Do you enjoy bringing up other people’s major trauma in casual conversation? What did changelings ever do to you that you need to take it out on me?” I asked, a little harshly. I might have loved him, and I might have realized he never really hated me, but that didn’t mean he was never cruel.

To his credit, the smile disappeared from his face, and maybe he even looked ashamed for a second. My comment must have reminded him of the ghosts he was hiding, and I shared his shame when I realized that. Punching back was not the answer, and I took no satisfaction in watching his face fall. One day, I would have, but I didn’t anymore.

“I’m going home,” I said softly. “I’m not here to fight, Tybalt. Please, let it be.”

There must have been something in my voice, because when I finished putting on my illusions - after several minutes of struggling; I was not used to my blood being this weak again, and briefly wondered if I’d be able to shift it without using the hope chest - there was something missing. A comment about a trained monkey or something similar - I didn’t remember the exact comment, only that if it had been there.

“Good hunting, Tybalt,” I said without sarcasm. He eyed me with an inscrutable look.

“Kind fires, October,” he said, and then the man was gone and there was only a brown tomcat where he’d been standing. He brushed against my leg as he walked away. I didn’t kick after him.

Damn cat.

–

If the smile had disappeared from my face while walking home, it returned when I took a look at my front porch. How did I ever believe I was alone, when so many people proved me wrong in only a couple of hours?

A teenage boy stood in front of my door with dandelion-hair and blue eyes, dressed like no human teenager would be caught dead dressing. My heart swelled with pride and affection at the sight of him.

My squire. My best friend. My foster son in everything but name.

A nameless page with a message from my liege who still thought changelings were below him. But not for long.

“Can I help you with something?” I said, stopping in front of him. He was shorter than me.

“I…” He stammered, then straightened his back. “Do I have the privilege of addressing the Lady Daye?”

I must have been grinning like an idiot, but I couldn’t help it. Not the best first impression, but likely still better than the last one. “Nope,” I said, popping the ‘p’. “That’s Sir Daye for you, Toby to my friends, and also…” I stepped closer to get to my door and to lower my voice. “This is still a human neighborhood. Give me your spiel inside.”

I opened the door and gestured for him to get inside, then pulled it shut behind both of us. “Did Uncle Syl send you?” I asked.

He stared at me. “I’m here on behalf of Duke Sylvester Torquill of Shadowed Hills, protector of–”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s who I’m talking about, too. Do you want some orange juice?”

He blinked at me. “What?”

“Orange juice,” I repeated. “I think that’s the only non-alcoholic thing I have at home right now, and honestly, I just got back, so I’m not even sure about that. Also, water. Those are your options.”

“Perhaps you misunderstand…” he said, and it took some effort not to laugh at his tone. “I have a message from Duke Torquill, which he has tasked me to–”

“I heard you the first time, kid. You’re here to give me a message from Sylvester, who is both my liege and my uncle. I’m sure he won’t mind if you have some orange juice first.” I opened the fridge to confirm that I indeed have some, and voilà. I took it out and pushed it in his hands. “Glasses are in the top cabinet. Get me one too. I need to feed the cats before Tybalt sues me for animal abuse. What was your name again?”

“Quentin,” he answered with some delay.

“Great. Hi, Quentin, I’m Toby. What was your message?” I got the cat food out, surrounded by two meowing fur balls. My heart twisted a little at their voice. In my time, they were already elderly, so I treasured every moment with them - and Spike wasn’t even here yet.

Quentin cleared his throat. “His Grace, Duke Torquill, would like to request your presence at his knowe tomorr– tonight.”

I had suspected it was something like that. As long as it was a request, I didn’t have to obey, so I could have ignored it last time as well. I still hadn’t wanted to risk it. “You can tell Sylvester I’ll visit him sometime in the next few days, but I can’t guarantee when. I have a job, you know.”

I winced when I realized the answering machine’s light would be flickering already. I wasn’t as exhausted as I had been last time, so instead of going to sleep, maybe I should consider dealing with that.

Despite his confusion, Quentin had poured two glasses of orange juice, and was awkwardly clutching one of the glasses by the time I finished feeding the cats. I raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you need written permission before you drink that?” I asked.

He flushed red and raised the glass to his mouth. I took mine and drank.

“The Duke expects you tonight,” he repeated.

I sighed. “And I will do my best to make it tonight, but I make no promises. He hadn’t properly seen me in almost fifteen years; he can wait a few more days.” It was cruel to make him wait, but a promise that he’d me soon was already more than what he got last time.

A few days would hopefully be enough to figure out how to act around him, and especially Luna. In another life, I had been avoiding him. In the life I know as true, I’m still avoiding him, although for very different reasons.

Cagney brushed against Quentin’s leg and he nearly jumped at first, then reached down and patted her awkwardly. I smiled, and thought of the time he walked down the stairs with Raj flung over his shoulder.

We’d be fine. It would take a while, but we’d be fine.

–

Quentin stayed for a few minutes, clearly bewildered by the overly cheerful and casual changeling knight who refused to acknowledge his formality. He would learn soon.

I walked to the answering machine and deleted the messages without listening to them, then said goodbye to the cats, picked up my coat which was not the jacket I loved, and walked out the door.

I was going to track down a customer to give her back her receipt. Never say I’m not committed to my ex-job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm here to talk to you about the Get-Toby-Back-Home Initiative...

Quentin fixed his uniform and straightened his back, arranging his face into a neutral expression. He would be good. He would be efficient. He would be the best courtier at Shadowed Hills, and then he could go home. Easy.

He faltered a little when he thought of the strange changeling knight who invited him inside, offered him orange juice and talked about the Duke like they were friends. No, family. If he really was the Duke’s niece, that would explain why she received the title even though she was completely different from most nobles. She was… kinder, even to him, who was nobody over here.

Quentin pushed the thoughts down and kept walking. The Duke had summoned him, and he would have to go. When he stepped inside the room, the conversation died, and the Duke looked at him - along with his son-in-law, the selkie. They both stared at him for a moment, then the selkie turned back to the Duke.

“She really didn’t say anything about what’s going on?”

“No,” the Duke said. “She only told me that it’s an emergency, and that I need to bring you, Etienne and Quentin here to an address near the water, and she would explain the situation when we are all there.” Duke Torquill turned to him now. “Quentin. Sorry about this, but you will need to escort Sir Etienne and me on… a quest.” 

“Yes, sir,” Quentin said, wondering who they’d been talking about. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Tell me… did October say anything earlier about what she might need us to do? Anything that seemed strange to you?”

Quentin blinked. His first response was going to be that everything about October was strange, but he couldn’t say that to the Duke. “No, sir. She told me she would visit you in the next couple of days, possibly tonight, but she has work to do and somebody else to talk to right now.” He paused. “She did say she’d see me again soon, but I assumed it was a figure of speech, or she was referring to her upcoming visit.”

The Duke looked troubled, but he didn’t respond. Sir Etienne stepped into the room, and the Duke nodded. “Alright. We’d better go and find out what this is about, then.”

–

Tybalt was tenser than he’d been in months, ready to pounce at everyone who moved or looked slightly wrong. It’s not enough that October acted so strange when they met in the morning, but not even a day later she shows up at the park and says the Luidaeg needs him and his Prince to help with some sort of quest? He couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued, and saying no to a Firstborn would have been incredibly foolish, but this wasn’t only his safety on the line. Raj was a child, and more than that, he was a Prince. If both of them met their end in a trap, his Court would be defenseless.

“If anyone tries to attack or capture us,” he said, not for the first time. “You step into the shadows, run home, and tell Gabriel. You don’t wait for me. Do you understand?”

Raj nodded, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes, Uncle.” The boy understood even less than he did. He had never even met October yet, and Tybalt didn’t remember ever telling the woman he had a prince, but the Luidaeg must have known. She had to be aware of what was going on in her city.

It didn’t make him less nervous that there was nobody at all on the street they were told to find. He stepped up and knocked on a door he was sure hadn’t been there the last time he walked this way. The door opened, and a woman stood there, looking at him with barely concealed annoyance.

“Well, congratulations,” she said. “You’re the first one here, so you get first pick of seats. Almost. Come in.” She stepped out of the way and Tybalt bowed.

“My Lady. This is my Prince, Raj.”

The sea witch rolled her eyes. “Get inside, will you? Patience is not something I’m known for, and you don’t want to know how annoyed I am right now.”

Tybalt stepped in, with Raj followed at his heels. The apartment was a mess, and he had to make an effort to conceal his disgust. It would not have been wise to voice it.

“The armchair is for Dianda Lorden, but other than that, sit wherever you want. I’d give you a list of approved guests, but I don’t have one, so… If anyone else comes - I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this - let them in. If they attack you, scream very loudly, and I might come upstairs to save you.” The Luidaeg ran a hand through her hair, looking around the living room. “I’ll be downstairs. Not that I know what I’m even supposed to prepare here, but I’ll try anyway. Shout if October comes back, otherwise tell everyone to sit down on their buttocks and wait patiently.”

Tybalt risked a comment at that. “I am not well-known for my patience, either."

The Luidaeg looked at him, more amused than angry. That was his luck. “Tough shit, kittycat. We’ll all just have to deal with this now. You heard the instructions.” And she left.

Tybalt and Raj looked at each other, then Tybalt sighed and threw himself on the couch. Raj curled next to him, and the two of them took up the entire thing, which was the only place to sit other than the forbidden armchair. Tybalt wondered how many people would be coming.

–

Dianda fixed her dress again, clearly tense. She was not in her element, and that was an understatement.

“What do you think she wants?” Patrick asked quietly.

Dianda sighed. “The sea witch sends a message for me to be here as soon as I can, bring my husband, and nobody else, and you expect me to know what she wants? Just be ready to run.”

Patrick nodded in silence and stepped forward to knock. There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps, and finally, a young Daoine Sidhe opened the door. He looked young, younger than Dean even, although likely older than Peter.

“Names and titles, please,” he said.

The Lordens looked at each other.

“Duchess Dianda Lorden of Saltmist,” Dianda said. “And this is my husband, Patrick.”

The boy nodded formally and stepped aside to let them in, then closed the door behind them and hurried back into the room. “Duchess Dianda Lorden of Saltmist, and Ducal Consort Patrick Lorden,” he announced to whoever was there. Dianda and Patrick looked at each other, then braced themselves and followed.

Patrick stopped in the doorway when his eyes met Sylvester’s, and sighed internally. “Hello, Connor,” he said, and the man returned an uncomfortable greeting. Other than them, there was Sir Etienne, the Daoine Sidhe boy, and two cats taking up half the couch.

“I believe the armchair is for you,” Sylvester told Dianda, and she settled in immediately, with Patrick standing next to her.

“Where is the Luidaeg?” she asked.

“Downstairs,” Sylvester said. “Is there any chance you know why we are here? I didn’t even know you knew October.”

“Who?” 

“October,” Sylvester repeated. “My– Amandine’s daughter.” Patrick frowned. He had heard about the girl, Amandine’s second daughter, and Simon’s step-daughter. The name was in the air between them as his eyes met Sylvester’s, but neither of them would say it. That was for the best. “She’s the one who called us here,” Sylvester continued. “Tybalt got here first, but he said the Luidaeg only told him to wait here until everyone is present. We don’t know who else is–”

“Who did that adorable introduction?” the Luidaeg asked, returning to the room. Quentin raised his hand nervously, and she snorted. “I like you, kid.” She looked around the room. “Dianda, Patrick, nice to see you. Does anyone have the foggiest fucking idea who October is picking up from Berkeley?”

There was silence. Those who must have known October better shook their heads. The Luidaeg sighed.

“Fucking perfect. Well, we can’t do much until she gets back, but hopefully we’re not waiting for anyone else. Patrick, come with me please. You too, selkie. No, wait – the two boys. You are young and you need exercise.”

Quentin looked at Sylvester, and stepped forward hesitantly after the Duke nodded at him. One of the cats turned back into two-legged form, and Patrick thought he recognised the King of Cats whom Simon used to know back in London. “May I ask what you need my Prince for?” he asked.

The Luidaeg stared at him. “You may ask, but you will not get an answer, because it’s none of your business. I will not eat him alive or harm him in any way, if that’s what you’re worried about. As I said, he can use the exercise.”

There was some more hesitation before Tybalt nodded. The younger cat turned back into a teenage boy who followed them warily as they walked towards the stairs.

–

“I’m really sorry about this,” Toby said.

Walther shrugged. “Lily vouched for you. Although I’m still feeling a little like I’m being kidnapped.”

Toby rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, heading straight for the living room. She looked around the people gathered, some sitting on the couch and some on bean bags with Etienne alone standing next to Sylvester with his back street. She nodded, satisfied. “Hi everyone,” she said. "I think most of you know each other, so we're not going to do a round of introductions, but most of you don't know Walther, so..." She gestured to the man next to her. "This is Walther Davies. He teaches chemistry at Berkeley, and he's the best alchemist in this kingdom and the next."

"That might be overstating it," Walther said, more nervous since they entered than before. Toby figured he must have recognized at least some of the nobles and started really wondering what he was getting into.

"Hush, you know you're the best. Please sit down somewhere, I think everyone is eager to learn why they are here."

"That's an understatement," Tybalt said, and Toby thought she heard a few others murmur something similar.

"Right." Toby took a deep breath. "I appreciate all of you coming here on such a short notice. Especially those of you who don't particularly like me yet, or possibly have never met me before. To that last group: Hi, I'm Toby Daye. I'm a private detective and a knight of Shadowed Hills, I get into trouble and bleed on things a lot, my father was a human man, what else... oh, right, and my Mom's a Firstborn. That's not relevant to why we're here, I'm just throwing it out there."

There were mixed reactions. The Luidaeg murmured something Toby couldn't make out, and Sylvester buried his face in his hands. "We've kept that secret for centuries," he said quietly.

Toby smiled tightly. "Yes, you did. And a few others too, wouldn't you say, Uncle?" Sylvester looked up at her guiltily, but she shook her head. "In any case, that's still not why we are here." She looked at the Luidaeg for help, who raised her hands with her palms open.

"This is your shitshow, kid. Do what you will."

"Right. Thanks for the support, Auntie, love you too." There was mild sarcasm in her voice, but it was still enough to make the Luidaeg's eyes go wide. She turned back to her audience. "I am Toby Daye, and my consciousness is from the year 2014. I have been jumping back in time against my will for the past several weeks. If you are here, that is because in my time, you are somebody I trust and can count on." She paused. That was a loaded sentence when it came to some people here, but she wasn't getting into that right now. "After my first jump, you all still remembered this. And then fewer and fewer of you did. This is the earliest I've been, and now some of you don't even recognize me." Her voice cracked, but she cleared her throat and pushed on. "Right now, I am six months - one jump - away from being a koi fish in the Japanese Tea Gardens. Which might actually be the point, given that my primary suspect for this chaos is the same woman who ordered me put there in the first place."

"Oleander?" Sylvester asked.

Toby shook her head. "No. Somebody that Oleander and Simon both work for, with varying agency."

Sylvester frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." Toby thought of Tybalt flinching away from her and stepping into the shadows, refusing to shift. "It means that we are the sum of our actions. And when desperation sets our course, such as a missing daughter for example..." She returned his look meaningfully. "Those actions can darken with terrifying speed."

Sylvester raised his head. " _I_ lost my daughter," he said. " _I_ lost my wife. He doesn't--"

" _I know_ ," Toby said, suddenly feeling very tired. " _Please_. I don't want to go into this, okay? There's a lot to talk about, and there's so much that hasn't even happened yet, and we don't have time for this, and this is not the right audience."

"How do you expect us to help?" Patrick asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure it out," Toby said. "I called you all here because you are my friends and allies and I know your skills, so I was hoping we can figure something out together." She pointed at Sylvester. "I already know a way you can help. I think there might be something in the Library I can use, so I'm going to need Li Qin to vouch for me to the Librarian, and for that you need to vouch for me to January." Sylvester nodded quietly, still looking troubled.

"I'm going to borrow your alchemist and see if he's worth the praise you gave him," the Luidaeg said. "I have something to try, and I need an assistant who actually knows what he's doing."

Toby nodded, and then turned to the next person. "Dianda. I think you're going to like this. I'm not sure how to get to that point yet, but I will very likely need you to punch Evening Winterrose in the face soon."

Patrick choked on air, and ironically, so did Sylvester. Dianda's face lit up. "I'm game," she said enthusiastically.

"Why does she need to punch Evening Winterrose in the face?" Sylvester asked cautiously.

"Mostly because she is a bitch who tried to have me killed. Among a bunch of other horrifying things. It's a _really_ long story, I'll tell you later. Now, for how the rest of you may be able to help..."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this plays with the same concept as "the seasons alter", but hey, I love that concept!


End file.
